


Come by the Hills

by saturni_stellis



Category: Monty Python's Flying Circus
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Rare Pairings, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27370474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturni_stellis/pseuds/saturni_stellis
Summary: A Betrothed Scotsman contemplates his wedding day
Relationships: A Scotsman on a Horse/Betrothed Scotsman, John Cleese/Michael Palin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Come by the Hills

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I'm just a sucker for 30 second sketches that involve John and Michael characters being canonically in love. (The character 'names' for the tags are taken directly from the IMDb page for Flying Circus, but for the purposes of the story I named Michael's character Edward, because it's his middle name, and John I just kept as Jonathan!)

The church bells rang out across the hills like an Angel's song of celebration. A celebration of joy; of what should be the happiest day of a young man’s life. Edward felt anything but happy. He felt despair, loneliness and the deep dark pull of desperation...

In his hand, a letter; the last remnants of a life he was to leave behind. At the bottom it was signed, ‘all my love, Jonathan’, but the words preceding it stung so greatly, the final inscription lost all meaning. 

Looking out of the window wistfully, the wind howled against the churches ancient walls. He would give anything for the walls to tumble upon him now, and save him from this doom. At noon he would marry. A fine girl, who through no fault of her own, had been forced into this arrangement at the insistence of their parents. But his heart lay in the hands of a man who’d been cast out of their village because their love, in the eyes of God, was impure. 

All Edward could think of now was running his hands through locks of blonde hair, passionate kisses and stolen moments they’d shared in the forest. Jonathan had climbed through his window one night, crept into his bed and whispered sweet words of desire in the darkness. Their warm embraces seemed to make the cold Scottish winter ebb away. 

The last of his tears blotched the ink on the letter of congratulation that was now crumpled in his hand. He threw it onto the fire and watched it burn. He could’ve sworn that somewhere in the distance, he could hear the sound of Jonathan’s horse, racing against the gravel up to the church. But he was sure, as the paper turned to ash, that it was mere wishful thinking.


End file.
